Angel with a Shotgun
by philargitta
Summary: Dean has no idea what's going on with him. He just worries about his best friend since he got back from Purgatory, right? That's normal, right? But soon he realises, that he is more than just worried about his friend and all these strange feelings he has are not as simple as he would want them to be. It's a slow beginning of something, of something big and deep and profound.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Dean fell on the crappy bed, his feet still on the ground, and spread his arms over the covers. Another crappy motel room with horrible wallpaper and a slightly weird smell in another crappy town, which Dean had already forgotten the name of again. Sammy had read an article about some 'mysterious animal attacks' on the internet and they wanted to check on that. Dean guessed the creatures they were hunting were werewolves , they were always somehow involved in so-called animal attacks with missing hearts.

He sighed and got up - the bed wasn't really comfortable - and walked over to Sam. Sam was already sitting on the wobbly chair staring at the screen of his laptop and writing down some notes. The weather was awful, it was raining and the wind was sharp and cold, but the noises coming from his stomach forced Dean to get his ass up and drive to the next diner to get something to eat.

"Sammy, I'm going to get us dinner, what do you want? Something special?"

"Ah, I'll take a salad, if they have a good one, thanks. .."

Salad – Sammy was on some kind of a health trip, again. Well, whatever makes him happy. Dean put on his leather jacket, grabbed the car keys from the table and ran through the rain to his baby. Sitting in the car, he turned up the music and the purring sound of his car lightened Dean's mood and he drove faster than he should to the next best diner, singing loudly and off-key to AC/DC while drumming onto the stirring wheel.

He pulled into the parking lot of a small diner near the motel and walked straight to the counter after he had entered the small building. The diner was not a five star restaurant, but it was clean. Dean could smell the frying fat, but saw something that made him smile: fresh apple pie. He leaned against the counter and scanned the room, whistling soundlessly. When the waitress approached him a smile broke wide on his face and he switched on his charming side, straightening his back: the day had just got better, a pretty girl can really spice your day up. She was tall, had dark, curly hair and dark eyes with long lashes, the diner uniform was a size too small and the low cut top complimented her pushed up boobs. She had slightly flushed cheeks from being busy running from one table to another, and now she was hurrying towards him, a scratchpad and a pen in her hands.

"Hi, what can I get you? Sorry for the waiting, I'm on my own today and it's busier than we expected…" she told Dean a little bit out of breath.

"No problem, it's worth waiting for you…" he smiled broadly at her and her cheeks reddened even more when she smiled, flattered.

"I'll take the Double Menu Deluxe and the big… Caesar Salad for to go, two large cokes and… do you have pie?" he asked with a breathtaking smile, flashing his white teeth at her. Dean was proud of his white teeth, even if he didn't take too much care for them. They were always a bright white and looked model-like . He licked his lips and the waitress was clearly distracted from their conversation as her eyes followed his tongue over his lips.

"Ahm…" after a few moments she cleared her throat and looked up into his incredibly green eyes. Oh yes, Dean Winchester knew very well how to impress the ladies and which small moves made them faint.

"Well, the apple pie is fresh out of the oven and I can really recommend that one…" she said after looking down at her hands, a little bit confused by her own shyness.

"Sounds awesome, I'll take a good piece of that apple pie as well, if you can recommend it that warmly…" Dean replied with a wink and an irresistible smile. Maybe he could get her number with a little bit more effort.

"Wow, that necklace is really, really beautiful…" he said and nodded to her décolleté. Yes, it was cheesy, but today he simply wasn't in top form.

"Colleen… What a pretty name, Colleen" Dean said and offered his hand for a handshake with a big warm smile, and she snapped out of her trance after staring at his lips for quite a while.

"Oh, thank you, …? What's your name again?" she asked innocently and she smiled a bit with her full, rosy lips.

"Dean. Really nice to meet you, Colleen" he replied and instead of shaking her hand, he brought hers up to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. Colleen laughed, pleased and Dean could see the spark of real interest in her eyes he had waited for.

15 minutes later he walked back to his car merrily humming with the receipt in his hand (Colleen had written her number on the backside in her girly handwriting), and after he placed the brown bags on the backseat he drove back to the motel but stopped at a liquor store for a bottle of whisky. As the rain slowly got lighter and stopped eventually, Dean found the day to be not as bad as he thought it would be.

When Dean arrived back at the motel room Sam was still searching the internet for crazy accidents and the paper in front of him was filled with notes.

"Dinnertime, Sammy!"

It was past one am when they fell into their not really comfortable beds, contently filled with diner food and a little bit tipsy by the few glasses of whisky they had. Sammy was fast asleep soon after he had hit the pillows, but Dean couldn't really stop his thoughts spinning around in his head. He laid on his back, the blanket covering half of his body, one arm under his head, and the other hand on his stomach. He couldn't sleep, now that he had time to think.

Actually he was just thinking about one thing: Cas.

Since Cas had returned from Purgatory, he had seemed to be sane again, cleared. But also very weary and tired, and Dean worried about him. He had fought so hard to get Cas out of Purgatory, to save them both, but Cas had refused to go with him, to let him save him. He worried about Cas, he worried about his best friend, the best he ever had . Sure, he had his rough edges, his social skills were 'rusty' and he had made some mistakes, but, honestly, who hadn't? It just made him more adorable. Yes, adorable. Dean got used to his angel's awkwardness and the shifting of his feet when he was embarrassed or this incredible head tilt, he could read it, he could read him, better than anyone else. Of course, he had Sammy, his little brother, and he will always protect him, and he had Bobby, but he had always been more of a father than a friend to him. Had been. It seemed like every single person that really mattered to Dean got bloodily murdered rather sooner than later. But Cas. He had managed to return, return to him, every single time he thought he had left him, like everyone else. He thought back to the moment he had first seen Cas. His incredible entrance. He had to smile when he thought about what a big show Cas had put on, just to impress him, all the bursting light bulbs, the wind, the barn gate breaking open, the lightning that drew the shadows of his wings on the wall behind him. The first thing Dean had thought was, that this creature was beautiful. Yes, simply beautiful. With those wild blue eyes, the fine structure of his face, his dark, messy hair. And his wings. So big, so powerful in the lightning, it made him forget to breathe . It was the most dangerous, powerful, wild and equally beautiful thing he had ever seen in his whole life. What Dean could remember best were his blue, piercing eyes. Now, four years later, he still couldn't believe how blue they were. Every time Cas stared at him and he couldn't resist to get lost in these deep blue eyes, he studied every single move, every reflection, every single part of them and it seemed like they would change from time to time, like there had been caught a piece of the constantly changing sky. Dean was fascinated and always got lost in time when he stared at these eyes.

Cas.

He smiled at the thought about Cas, his best friend, his angel. His angel … wait, what? Since when was Cas his angel? He was an angel. And, yes, of course, he was Dean's friend, and they shared this… profound bond, but, what the hell, brain? HIS angel? Dean reached unconsciously to his shoulder, where Cas had burnt his handprint into his flesh. It was still somehow a little bit itchy, but it was not really displeasing, it was rather like a humming under his skin, just lightly. But yes, Cas was somehow… his angel. And everybody knew that.

Those blue eyes. They always looked slightly confused, and they were always filled with amazement, as he would wonder every time he laid eyes onto the world, how wonderful his father's creation truly was, it's beauty, it's imperfection. And then there was a shimmer of the existence of many, many years, memories, knowledge… And there was something else, something Dean couldn't really put a finger on … something he really liked to see in Cas eyes … it looked like … looked like …

Dean fell softly asleep, with a smile on his lips. How long had it been since he had smiled for himself, a true and honest smile? One hand on his chest and the head turned to the side, Dean fell asleep with a small smile gracing his face.

With a flush there was suddenly another presence in the small motel room. Castiel took the three steps to Dean's bed, simply stood there and looked down at Dean's face. He always looked so much more peaceful when he slept, no furrowed brows, no creases on his forehead - caused by the constant worry for Sam - no tensed shoulders - to be ready - to fight at any moment.

But today there was something else, Castiel noticed. There was a light, fading smile on his lips. Castiel tilted his head a little bit and furrowed his brows. He liked it, that expression on Dean Winchester's face. He liked it, but he would like to know why it was there. Who or what was the reason for this small smile? He sighed mutely, reached for Dean's cheek and hovered just a few centimetres above the skin. He felt the warmth radiating from Dean's body. Such a beautiful, perfect human being. Not just his deep, green eyes, which always searched for his, not only his steeled body, his soft, short hair, not just his rough hands, scattered with small scars, so good with deadly weapons, and at the same time able to be so gentle with the things that were important to him, no, his soul, his mind, too. He had such a wonderful soul, always trying to protect and save everybody, to do the right thing, to do the good thing, always trying to protect Sammy, to save him, and even himself, Cas. And there was so much pain, but despite of that, he never gave up, this small human being believed so hard there as good, and even if he had to create it on his own. This tiny human being burdened with so much suffer and grief, so often hurt, so many losses was still able to love so deep, so truly, his brother, his family, his friends. He couldn't help himself, he admired Dean Winchester. For him, Castiel, Dean was the most perfect man on this earth. He had never regretted lifting Dean from Perdition , and after doing so, never regretted trusting and following him . He felt that he was responsible for Dean, he felt he was his charge, he was his personal guardian angel, and he liked that. He, Castiel, a warrior of the Lord, was Dean Winchester's angel. He looked down again at this peaceful face, at his hands, resting on his muscular chest, directly above his heart. The sleeves of Dean's t-shirt had been slid up over his shoulders, and Cas could see his own handprint he had left on Dean's shoulder. Even Castiel wasn't quite sure how and why this had happened, but probably something like this happens when you grip a man's soul tight and drag it out of hell. A small irregularity of his vessel's heart made him wonder and while he tried to figure out what that meant he let his hand hover just a few millimetres above Dean's Hand on his chest to feel the strong and calm heartbeat and his warmth. He understood the meaning of this feeling, he realised, he liked the thought of having left a mark on Dean, and he liked the feeling. He looked at Dean's face for a last time before he bent over the sleeping man and inhaled Dean's scent, a very masculine scent of sweat, Whisky, a fading part of apple pie and Dean's very personal scent, the scent of his skin. He stroke d slightly over Dean's knuckles and disappeared with a wooshing sound of his wings.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter** 2

The hunt had been easy, two werewolves - a couple - and Dean had killed them with two silver bullets right to the heart. He and Sam had worked perfectly together, as always, having each other's back and a constant silent understanding.

When they arrived back to the motel room, they were in high spirits and Dean suggested, they should really go out to a bar, celebrating this successful hunt. Dean was in such a good mood, he even let Sammy have the first turn to have a shower. He opened the whisky bottle they had bought on their way back home and poured some of it for himself and Sammy into the scratched but clean glasses he found in the cupboard, whilst humming AC/DC. He let himself fall onto the creaking bed; he was content, actually near being happy – the case had been easily and quickly solved, they would go out tonight, Sammy and him, together, and maybe he could even help Sammy getting laid by a nice girl.

"Hey, did you hear anything from Cas lately?" Sam asked through the half closed bathroom door, steam fogging his sight "I haven't seen him in ages, do you think he's alright? With the whole Purgatory thing?"

"No, not really… " Dean murmured as he got lost in his thoughts. He hadn't seen Cas for quite a while now, indeed, and somehow he missed the stiff sentences from the angel's mouth. This mouth, with chapped lips, which were hard to get into a smile, but fascinating anyway … Dean was just letting Cas wetting his lips with his tongue and every tiny smile shimmering through Dean's imagination, when Sam snapped him out of his daydreams, throwing a damp towel to his head.

"Stop the headporn and hurry up with the shower or else all the hot water will be gone!" Sam laughed and put on a clean shirt. Dean froze. Headporn? Seriously? He nearly laughed out loud when the images returned, Castiel seductively licking over his lips, peeking up under his long, dark lashes, but with a big pink neon sign blinking above his head saying 'headporn' in Sammy's handwriting. Dean shook his head to clear it from pornographic pictures of a seducing angel and turned back to Sam.

"Sure, sounds great … We should ask Cas if he wants to join us tonight – maybe he's free for one night and has no important celestial jobs to do upstairs" he heard Sam reply, as he walked to the bathroom.

"Ah, yeah, alright … I'll ask him after I've showered. Start with the whisky already,I'll be back in a few minutes" he said and murmured, more to himself "the real question is, will he answer?"

He stepped under the hot stream of water after peeling himself out of dirty, blood stained and smelly clothes, dumping them into a corner. He let the hot water run through his hair and down his back, washing dirt and sweat away. He sighed contently and relaxed a little. Probably he should jerk off before they went out, just to be sure. He quickly soaped up his body and hair, and after washing down the soap, he kept on stroking his stomach, his chest and his nipples. He closed his eyes, tried to relax and let go of all the tension in his body. Sammy was safe. They both were, everything was fine. It had been an easy hunt, they had killed the werewolves. Two monsters less walking on this earth, and this town could sleep safely again. They would be going out tonight, to a nice bar, getting drunk, having fun. And maybe getting laid. His hands caressed his nipples and wandered down to his thighs, slowly stroking the sensitive skin upwards. He tried to think of some Busty Asian Beauties, but he could not really concentrate.

He would see Cas again tonight, maybe. His cock twitched suddenly in interest. He would see the angel, with his wide blue eyes and his messy dark hair. His blood was suddenly flushing really, really fast to his cock. He tried not to think about the reason for this and screwed his eyes shut. Maybe, if Cas would hear him and answer him later, and maybe, maybe accept his invitation, they would go to a bar together. His fingers circled around one nipple, making himself shiver, the other hand started to stroke his already half hard cock. Maybe they would get drunk together, and maybe, if he could persuade the angel to drink a little bit more, Cas would loosen up. Dean moaned quietly as an image of Cas appeared in his mind, smiling a little bit, his tie loosened around his neck, the hair more messy than usual, the trench coat slid down one shoulder. And glistering blue eyes. Dean steadied himself against the shower wall with one hand, biting his lip to keep down a moan. He was already too close. Stroking faster, he thought about Cas' face, the stubbles framing the strong jawline, the fine nose, the full lips, a pink tongue darting out to wet them. The messy, dark hair, which always looked like Cas had been fucked all night long. Dean let his head fall back and couldn't hold back a deep moan. And those eyes. Those deep blue heavenly eyes. Dean came, hard and fast. He felt dizzy, he had to steady himself with both hands on the wall through the after waves of his orgasm, the tiles covered with his white cum. He was sure he hadn't had such a good orgasm in a long, long time. He panted heavily, shocked by what just happened. Did he really just…?

He cleaned up quickly, turned off the now lukewarm water and stumbled out of the bathroom, pulling a shirt over his head while almost falling over. He didn't want to let himself have the time to think about the fact, he just had jerked off to images of his best friend. Fuck. He rubbed his hair dry with a towel, not really successful and nearly lost his balance, again.

"Dude, are you alright?" Sam stared at him, the glass of whisky still in his hands, eyes wide and worried.

"Ah … - oh. No, it's ok, Sammy, I'm fine. Sorry, didn't mean to scare you … You got some whisky for me?" Dean asked with a broad fake smile, trying to compose himself. Don't think about it, just don't think about it and it has never happened.

Sam passed him a glass and Dean swallowed down the strong alcohol in one gulp and waved his glass to Sam to refill it.

"Whoa, take it easy, tiger. You wanna get wasted tonight?" Sam chuckled and poured Dean some more as he was told to. He was happy, the case had been solved clean and quickly, and he was in the mood to celebrate, so he just shrugged off his worries.

"So, what's up with Cas?"

Dean nearly choked and Sam reached out to pat his big brother's back with an irritated look.

"Are you sure you are alright? You seem o be a bit nervous."

"Wh… What?" Dean asked with a harsh voice, caused by the strong alcohol.

"Well, you wanted to ask Cas if he'd like to join us tonight. You still do want to go out, right?" Sam said worried.

"Oh, oh, yes, of course. I'll ask him in minute. I'm fine, don't be such a mother hen. And yes, we are definitely going out, we earned that" he smiled at Sam and took another sip from his whisky.

"Ok… alright, I have to go to the reception, there's been some problems with the credit card... I'll be back in ten" he told his brother and got up.

"Don't choke again while I'm not around" he laughed and reached for the doorknob.

"See you in ten, bitch" Dean replied annoyed, but Sam just gave back a "jerk" with a low chuckle and a big smile on his face.

As soon as Sam had left the room, Dean sat down on his bed, sighing deeply. He held the glass between his hands and looked thoughtfully into the clear, amber liquid. Since when had it gotten so hard to pray to Cas? His heart pounded against its ribcage at the thought of the Angel in the trench coat standing in this crappy motel room. What the hell was wrong with him? He was Dean friggin' Winchester! He was not nervous to call the angel. Not at all. He sighed again, shrugging as to convince himself it was no big deal, tipped down the whisky and rolled the glass between his hands.

"Ahem." He cleared his throat. That was silly. Dean Winchester, get your crap together, dammit!

"Ok … Ah, Cas? Can you hear me? Hey, well, Sammy and I, we thought, that maybe-"

With a sound of wings he stood in front of him, making Dean jump and nearly dropping the glass.

"Whoa, Cas…" was all he could say, staring at the angel with wide eyes.

"Hello, Dean." Cas stood directly in front of him, so he had to tilt his head back to look him in the eyes.

When Dean didn't answer, Cas tilted his head to one side in confusion, his eyes narrowed in irritation.

"Why did you call me, Dean?"

Dean tried desperately not to think about the fact that he jacked off to this incredible beautiful face just ten minutes ago and he felt himself blushing, trying to will down the heat creeping up his neck.

"Ah, yeah, right … well, we had a really good hunt today, and Sammy and I, yeah, well, we wanted to go out, to a bar, celebrating, and, huh, well…"

He sounded like a damn twelve year old schoolgirl. Shit. Cas just stared into his eyes, staring right into his soul, at least Dean thought so.

Cas tried to figure out what was going on behind those green eyes, in that beautiful head, tried to solve the puzzle of this perfect human being. Cas gazed at Dean, following a water drop that was running down a strain of Dean's dirty blond hair, dripping down and landing on Dean's firm chest under the not completely buttoned up shirt.

Dean entirely lost hold of his thoughts as he watched Cas staring at his chest, and his look fell down to the angel's lips. Damn. He forced down the impulse to reach out and stroke with his thumb over Cas' bottom lip… he was clearly invading his personal space, again. But Dean didn't mind, not really.

For a bit less than a minute both were wholly lost in staring at each other, but eventually Dean snapped himself out of it, and he stared down at his trembling hands, to keep himself from getting distracted by these perfect features of his angel's face.

"So… do you … maybe want to join us? Drink some beer, pull some girls, and maybe lose your virginity?" Dean laughed dryly about his bad joke.

"I would like to join you, Dean. If you want me to do so, I will consume alcohol as well, but I would rather avoid making random young women's acquaintances, if that is possible." Cas said with a stern look into Dean's eyes which had searched his.

Dean noticed Cas hadn't mentioned the whole losing-virginity-thing in his answer, although he was always more than accurate with everything he said... - Ok. Stop it, now. Don't think such thoughts. Please. Enough is enough, Dean told himself.

Dean offered Cas a wide and warm smile, he was honestly happy the angel would join the brothers tonight.

"Alright, Cas! It's gonna be awesome, I promise! Glad you're with us tonight!" Dean got another glass from the cupboard, scratched like the one Dean had, but Cas didn't seem to mind. Dean poured Cas and himself some whisky and smiled at the stiff posture of the angel.

"If you say so, Dean. I am happy, too, to accompany you tonight." Dean could see the a tiny hint of a smile curl up Cas' lips and lit up his face. And there was another expression in his friend's face Dean couldn't identify, but it somehow made Dean feel even better.

By now Dean felt the effect of the whisky he had already drank, a warmth in his stomach, as he raised his glass.

"To us, Cas!" he smiled as Cas raised his glass as well.

But maybe the warmth in Dean's stomach wasn't only due to the alcohol, maybe it was this look on Cas' face that made his stomach feel like it was filled with stupid little butterflies.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

An hour later they sat in a booth in a corner and had already ordered the first round of beer. The Winchester-Brothers were already a little bit tipsy, thanks to the whisky, but only to that point where they were getting more and more comfortable , sitting together in the bar, laughing and fooling around, while waiting for the waitress to bring their drinks, and it was good, it was really good after so much pain, grief, loss and keeping-their-shit-together, to relax and just be happy about still having each other, at least, and to be somehow still alive, sitting in a bar, chatting and enjoying each other's company.

The tall, blond waitress arrived with their beers, and while she was putting them down in front of them she tried to catch Dean's glance, but he just smiled a polite thank you and turned back to Cas, who was sitting across the table in front of him. Sam frowned a little bit at his brother's unusual behaviour, but immediately took his chance and thanked the waitress with a much bigger smile, and even though he knew he was apparently not her first choice, he found her more than appealing.

"Thank you, …?" he said with his best charming smile, an unspoken question hanging in the air between them. She was really pretty, dark blond hair, pinned up in an impressive, chaotic bun and light hazel eyes, filled with eager kindness – Sam instantly liked her – and not to forget her insane physique – hot did not even come close .

"Ivy" she laughed, winking at him, her pupils widening with interest.

"Thank you, Ivy. I'm Sam, that's my brother Dean, and that's his … that's Cas."

Dean and Cas addressed a friendly but brief nod at her as their names were mentioned but turned back instantly to their conversation.

"Well … Yes. I am at your service, tonight, if you need something - anything… just call me." She told Sam and turned, with another wink and a slinky smile, to go back to the taps, wiggling her hips, knowing full well Sam was staring at her well-shaped ass.

"Alright, Cas. You have to turn off your 'Angel-Mojo' for tonight, no 'superfast self-healing-powers', you understand? You gotta trust me here, heh, it's gonna be so much more fun, to get you a bit drunk, without your 'dexocitation abilities', alright?" Dean just told Cas, with an excited grin plastered all over his face, as Sam joined their conversation.

"Dean, you know I trust you. But …"

"No 'but's, tonight you're gonna get wasted, you have no idea how badly I want to see you lying hammered under this very table! Relax, loosen up a little bit. It's alright, I'm gonna watch out for you, Cas." Dean laughed and winked at Sam, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Sam furrowed his brow, looking between Dean and Cas with worry, but forgot the reason for that as soon as the first round tequila was set on the table in front of him. It's going to be an awesome night, he could feel it in his veins. Or maybe it was the alcohol. But who cares? He grinned at Ivy, who smiled widely back at him from the bar as he raised the small glass and downed the first shot of tequila.

After a few more rounds of the good, golden tequila, a lot of laughter and a lot flirting between Sam and Ivy, Sam excused himself and ambled over to the bar, his legs already a little bit wobbly thanks to the strong liquor he had consumed the past two hours, to strike up a more serious conversation with the pretty waitress.

After Sam had left their table, Dean watched him stagger towards the bar, sighed contently, proud of his baby brother. He stretched his back and his arms over his head, leant back and settled his arms on the backrest of the booth, looking over to Cas, who was staring at the bottle in his hands. A silence set in, not really uncomfortable, but definitely filled with a certain, somehow excited tension.

Dean had managed to push aside the kind of thoughts of Cas he had earlier that evening during his 'self-time' in the shower, and, more important, why he had had such thoughts at all. Soon he had caught himself over and over again, getting annoyed with himself - but he simply couldn't help watching Cas, getting lost in following the refined line of his nose, sinking, full with wonder, about that very unfamiliar laugh, but which he fast grew to really like, into the sound of Cas' voice. And of course, his gaze always, always wandered back to those incredibly blue eyes. The eyes of an angel. Literally. It nearly, but only nearly annoyed him, that Cas caught him staring – he lost count how often - tilting his head, but still smiling, so Dean quickly looked down, at his bottle in front of him, willing down the blush that kept creeping up his neck. But the smile that forced itself on his lips wasn't that easily willed away.

And again, there was something in those blue eyes, something he could not define. He had seen something similar in Sam's eyes when they had one of their rare chick-flick 'we-are-brothers-we-are-family-I-am-here-for-you' moments. But it was not the same, it was… something different.

Apparently, Dean had lost grip on time, again, he realized as Cas started to squirm in his seat und er his examining gaze. It was such a human motion that Dean nearly had to laugh out loud. He cleared his throat but somehow a low chuckle still managed to escape. He straightened his back and took the bottle in one hand, the other arm still on the back rest. He felt warm and comfortable, and he stretched out his legs under the table.

"Well, Cas, you alright?" he quipped and noticed his tongue already got a little bit heavy.

"Hm … I feel a little bit vertiginous, Dean … And forming words is more difficult, the abilities of my tongue are constricted. But apart from that, I feel fine. I feel good, it is pleasant to sit here with you, Dean."

Cas actually tried to shoot him a crooked smile and the attempt plastered a broad grin on Dean's face.

He just looked so … adorable. Cas glowed, smiled and even leaned back, relaxing, and Dean liked the view, he really liked it. The loose tie, the top of his shirt unbuttoned, the trench coat nearly sliding down one shoulder … Stop. He would split his face in half if he continued to grin like that for the rest of the evening.

Dean sprawled his legs further out under the table and grazed with his calf against Cas' leg. Cas jumped a little bit by the touch and eyed Dean nervously, but Dean didn't seem to notice – at least he didn't remove his leg from his. He looked curiously at Dean's face, who sternly examined the label of his beer bottle.

Cas pressed his leg in experiment further into Dean's.

Dean didn't react at all, he still examined his bottle like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He clenched his hands around the bottle, like it could keep him from falling somewhere, as his heart started to beat harder and faster against his ribcage, and he didn't dare to look up.

"Dean?"

"Hm?" he didn't really trust his voice right now. Just stick to the humming.

"There is a heat spreading inside of me. Is that supposed to happen?"

Cas' tone was so endearing Dean looked up with a smirk "Yes, Cas, that's … that's alright … Alcohol warms you up from the inside, you know"

Cas moved his leg, just a tiny bit, but he was keen on more physical contact with Dean. He had noticed it made his stomach flutter, in a good way, and heat pool in his lower body regions, and it filled Castiel with excitement and fidgetiness. Cas wondered about alcohol every time he consumed it, it was actually fascinating, after just a few glasses he already felt himself so much more connected to his vessel than usual, and as his thoughts got a little bit blurred, he simply relied more on his feelings, and the contact between Dean's and his own leg felt so good, so very good. He knew, under normal circumstances, Dean would have jerked back, Cas could read that in the tension that built between them, radiating from their connected legs, and he was curious why Dean wasn't doing exactly that this evening, but leaving their legs touching. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just the general contentment - Cas didn't know. But he knew that he wanted to feel more, feel it better, feel more than just the small contact between their legs under the table.

Dean was more than just confused. What the hell? Why was he doing that? Couldn't he just keep his shit together? First, jerking off to images of his best friend and now secretly playing footsie und er the table with that very best friend. Again: Dean, what the hell? But Dean didn't get far with those thoughts, they got tangled up in themselves, slowly drifted off, got lost in the sweet thick syrup of the sensation of this very warm leg against his.

Cas observed him mindfully, trying to take in and analyse every single move Dean Winchester was making, and Dean had to smile at that involuntarily. The alcohol's effect had set in and made Dean feel more than comfortable in this booth, with a warm leg pressed to his, making him forget about all the worrying thoughts that were trying to surface. It wasn't important, not now. Not with Cas sitting across him. He settled on grinning broadly.

"Hey, Cas … Do you actually know how happy I am to have you back, Buddy? I'm really glad you're better … And … Well, you know … if there is something bothering you … With the whole Purgatory shit … You can always talk to me …" he slurred.

Wow. Where did that chick-flick moment come from? Ah, doesn't matter. Remember? We agreed on no thinking for tonight.

"Thank you very much Dean, I really appreciate that. Actually, there is something I would like to talk to-"

With his perfect timing, Sam arrived back at their table, obviously successful, his left arm was draped around Ivy's waist, and he announced loudly, that now, Ivy, who giggled uncontrollably, would join them to celebrate the end of her shift, and put a bottle of Jack Daniel's on the table.

"Shots! And Dean, move your lazy ass around the corner and offer the lady a seat!"

The table was not that big and held hardly place for all the four of them, so Dean was forced by a violently shoving Sam into Cas' personal space, sitting directly next to him. As Sam and Ivy started to chatter and giggle, the only thing Dean could think of was his thigh which was tightly pressed against Cas', and the fact, that Cas didn't move away, not at all. His heart hammered through his chest, and he had to clench both hands around his beer bottle to keep them from sneaking onto Cas' thigh.

Cas experienced his Vessel in a completely new way. Although the alcohol had numbed his senses and made his thoughts heavy and slow, he felt the pressure of Dean's thigh against his with a million over-sensitized nerve endings, he heard his blood rush through his body, hot and fast, and he couldn't perceive anything else than the presence of this extraordinary, beautiful human being next to him.

He turned his head to look at Dean, to take it all in, this beautiful face with those small laugh lines around the eyes, which only flattered them, with hundreds of pretty freckles all over his nose, the three-day stubble, that suited him so well, and then –

Dean stared at their thighs. He was entranced; he stared like he couldn't believe what he felt with every square millimetre of his skin, the heat radiating through Cas' dress pants and his denim jeans. He felt Cas' gaze on him, and as he looked up in those deep, incredible blue eyes, he saw it again. This glimmer of something he couldn't really put his finger on.

Cas looked into Deans unnaturally green eyes, the iris was sprinkled with dark green sparks. He had rarely seen such unique and beautiful eyes like Dean's. And looking at Dean's eyes he finally could understand the fascination with them they were the door to the soul, he could feel Dean when he looked him in the eyes, he could sense what he was feeling, what he was thinking.

Dean's pupils widened with realisation.

This something, this special glimmer in Cas' eyes. It was absolute, unquestioned trust, admiration and the profound urge to protect.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After a long night filledwith laughterand deep conversations in good company, which went far too long after the closing hours, they finally decided to get back to the motel room. They got up, all of them more than a little bit tipsy, but warmed from the alcohol and very happy.

Ivy had been pretty fast convinced that Sammy, with all his charm and puppy eyes, was really worth it and she couldn't keep her hands for herself - after she had discovered that Sam had indeed a very, _very _nice body - for the rest of the evening. They acted like horny teenagers, including very audible making-out and very 'discreet' groping and touching at delicate places – but Dean didn't mind, he was happy with the probability of his little brother getting laid that night.

Dean had not moved a single bit fromCastiel the entire evening; he had stayed right there at his place with his thigh pressed against his. He had gotten used to the heat radiating from where their bodies were connected, and enjoyed it far more than he actually should. At one point he _really _had to go to the bathroom, but after he had returned very quickly, he had sat exactly as close as they were before – the loss of the heat and the sudden coolness at his thigh had nearly made him whimper during the short trip to the bathroom.

As they all got up, Dean's face fell at the thought of leaving Cas' thigh, breaking the contact for getting home, and that he might not be able to have some of his heat near around him anytime soon**. **He sighed heavily and threw his leather jacket on. But as soon as he looked over to Cas, who stood swaying happily at the doorframe, his trench coat a little bit lopsided on his shoulders, shooting him a crooked grin, he couldn't help but smile widely.

"Whoa. Take it easy, man, the last round of Tequila was pretty strong, wasn't it, huh?" Dean laughed, walking over to Cas and, after hesitating in a short consideration, slid his arm around Cas' waist – to steady him, _of course._ Dean was very proud of himself that he found such a good excuse to be near Cas. He grinned at Cas, tipsy himself, even though his tolerance limit was incredibly high.

"I really think you shouldn't fly anymore tonight, Cas" Dean joked, and was a little bit more than surprised when he heard a low chuckle from his side. Encouraged by Cas' laughing, he added, "How about you come back to our room with us, and stay there 'til you're sobered up? We could watch TV or somethin' …"

"Or something…" Cas chuckled, and Dean nearly didn't hear it, so low was Cas' voice, raspy and warm by the alcohol and the late evening, but he didn't really think much about it, he was happy with one arm around Castiel, pressing him into his side, hip on hip (for balance, _of cours_e), enjoying his body heat. He had given up on thinking hours ago. He guided the drunken angel out of the door, catching him as he tripped over his own feet, laughing a little bit, and waited patiently for Sam and Ivy to lock up the place so they could finally get to go back to the motel.

Dean held Cas all the way back to the motel with a firm grip around his waist. Cas had put his arm around Dean's waist, too, at some point, and he did not really mind that Cas leaned into him, putting most of his weight on Dean. They shared their body heat to keep warm and laughed quietly about Cas' philosophical theories about the Beauty of his Father's Creation, recited slightly slurred, while clinging to each other with great force. For the balance_, of course_. Now and then, Cas stopped abruptly and looked up into Dean's face, trying to figure out whether he was still there or not, like he was the one being able to disappear into thin air. Only after a long, squint-eyed look into those green eyes, he was convinced, that yes, Dean still had his arm firmly around his waist, where it belonged, and Dean had to smile a big, happy, tipsy smile, as soon as Cas stumbled forward, after he had sighed contently, pulling Dean with him.

Sammy caught up with them, and Dean made Cas sit down on the sidewalk, so he wouldn't fall over while he stood alone. Sam told him that he will probably not come back to the motel room with them. _U__nfortunately_, Ivy's flat was nearer. Sammy tried to keep his voice as neutral as possible, but Dean could hear the excitement and satisfaction in between his words and shot a wide, toothy grin at Sam. The younger Winchesterburied his hands deep in his pockets and blushed slightly, rocking forth and back on the balls of his feet.

"Well then, have fun, tiger! Make your big brother proud!" he said loudly, laughed and clapped Sammy's back. Sam just rolled his eyes but had to smile too. He hurried back to Ivy and Dean called out**, **"Use protection!" which earned him another annoyed look, and then Sam was gone around the corner, Ivy in his arms, laughing and giggling, leaving Dean alone with Cas.

Dean shook his head and smiled a small smile, watching the corner Sam had just disappeared to. He was happy for his little baby-brother, getting lucky, with such a nice _and _hot girl. He knew Sammy would never, _could_ never forget Jessica. And** he** would never find someone like her, but still, he was happy for his little brother**-**for this one night of forgetting and fun.

He turned around to help Cas up, but he found the angel laying on his back down on the pavement, watching the dark blue sky, hands folded neatly above his stomach, legs angled up, the trench coat spread underneath him, like a blanket, with a content smile on his lips.

Damn it. He looked so beautiful. And so peaceful. And so vulnerable. Even though Dean knew the angel was much, much stronger than himself, he felt the sudden urge to protect this angel from all the hurt this world had to offer. He looked so vulnerable, laying there, counting the stars, and probably knowing each and every single one by their name and their story. Cas turned his head and looked at him, standing a few feet apart.

"It is difficult to see the stars if your vision is ambiguous." He murmured into the quiet night.

Dean sat down besides Castiel, looking up into the sky. The air had cooled down; it was early in the morning, rather still night. The street light above their heads was broken so they were able to see all the stars this night had to offer.

Dean sat crossed-legged next to Cas' head, his fingers playing with the hem of one of the sleeves of the trench coat.

"Has Sam left with the blonde woman?" Cas asked.

Dean had to chuckle at the thought, that Cas apparently talked like a four-year-old when he was drunk.

"Yep … and I guess they won't get any sleep tonight." Dean laughed softly.

"But I really don't want to talk about that right now, or even think about it…" he added and stretched out beside Castiel, one arm cushioning his head, the other arm resting on his stomach.

He turned his head to get a better view on his best friend. Cas' profile was beautiful, simply beautiful. The lips, a little bit dry and chapped, which made Cas' tongue dart out to wet them every so often, the fine nose, the small dimple in his chin, which Dean definitely did _not_ find cute, and, of course, those incredibly blue eyes. Everything fit together perfectly. He didn't want to stop staring.

"Dean…" Cas moved a little bit to get more comfortable, his hand fell between their bodies.

"Hmm…?" Dean hummed, not averting his glance.

"Dean, there are so, so many stars. And they are all so beautiful, all so unique, and so impressive. I have seen them all." He stilled for a moment, and Dean did not really know how to respond to this information.

"Dean, I have done horrible, _horrible_ things-"

Dean wanted to interrupt him, but Cas made him stop with a firm glance.

"I killed my own brothers. I broke every rule I know. I rebelled. I ignored my orders. I brought chaos to Heaven. And then I turned my back to those who still believed in me, even after all I had done. I lost my mind; and I gained sanity again. Dean. The only thing that has been there from the beginning until to this very moment, has been you. You made me question my orders. You showed me my way to my own free will. In spite of everything I have done so far, in spite of everything I have done and I have said, you always still believed in me, gave me the strength I needed to go on, to get through, and to survive. Always, Dean…"

Dean looked at him, _really_ looked at him. With his last words, Cas' had turned towards him, looking into his eyes with a stern look. Dean had expected anything but this heavy speech. He didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth, looking into those very blue eyes, but his throat was too tight to get anything out.

"I wanted to thank you for that. Thank you, Dean Winchester. I am deeply in your debt."

Dean still didn't know what to say. He just stared into Cas' wide blue eyes and saw everything-saw how sincere Cas was about everything he had said. He saw the pain, the guilt, he saw pure affection towards him, Dean, he saw the gratefulness, and the promise to do anything to protect him.

"Thanks, Cas…" Dean murmured, his voice raspy from emotions racing through him. He lowered his gaze to his hands, which now lay next to Cas', and the sudden urge to touch and comfort overwhelmed him. He swallowed hard, the look fixed sternly onto their hands. He reached out, slowly and carefully, as not to scare him away, and touched Cas' hand with his index finger. He stroked slowly over Cas' knuckles and glanced to Castiel's face to search for the reaction, holding his breath, not daring to move anymore.

The fond and tender expression he found there released his chest, which had been drawn together by his much too quickly beating heart. Cas smiled a little bit, his typical smile, which you could only see if you looked very hard, and Dean stroked over his knuckles again, tentatively. His heart beat loud in his ears, he felt dizzy from holding his breath. His heart skipped a beat when Cas moved his hand, but Cas only turned his hand around and stroked ever so lightly over Dean's palm. They stared at each other and tried to read each other's mind.

Cas liked this. He was not that drunk anymore and his little speech had sobered him up even more, but he was still warm and fuzzy on the inside and his heart pumped faster than normal. He looked into those deep, dark green eyes, and saw a silent question, like Dean was asking for permission for something. He had intuitively responded to the stroking, and had noticed Dean's eyes widening with his response. He smiled at him contently, and Dean had smiled back, relieved. The tension between them had lessened, and Cas grasped Dean's hand and held it lightly. Dean responded immediately with a small squeeze. Cas intertwined their fingers slowly and shot another small reassuring smile to Dean, who returned it even bigger. He decided he liked this holding-each-other's-hand-in-your-own and stroke lightly with his thumb over Dean's hand as he turned his head back to stare into the night sky. The stars swirled around in his sight, just like all the thoughts in his head, but Dean's strong, rough hand kept him safe from getting lost in the whirling, and he enjoyed the heat they shared between their bodies. He liked that. Lying on the ground, watching the stars, holding Dean's warm hand. _It could stay that way._

Dean had observed Cas' face as they had intertwined their fingers, but all he could see was contentment. It was nearly too much when Cas smiled a last small smile and turned back to watch the sky, and continued to stroke the back of his hand. It felt so good, so warm, so right; he felt as if he was directly connected to Cas through their hands, and it just felt _right_. He didn't really think about this as "holding hands with his best friend while watching the stars", and how it would sound spoken aloud. He didn't think much at all at this moment. It was too good to think about it right now. He looked back at the sky, but couldn't keep himself from grinning widely. He enjoyed holding Cas' hand more than he should. It was a very intimate gesture, but it didn't say anything other than 'affection' and 'fondness', and Dean was more than happy with that.

It should always be like that. _It could stay like that_.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dean had no idea how long they had been laying there on the footpath, staring into the sky, watching the stars; but when it had gotten too cold to stay there, they had gotten up. He didn't know who had moved first, but it was not really important. Dean stretched his arms behind his back and looked a little bit embarrassed when he said they should head back to the motel room, to get somewhere less cold than there. When they finally arrived at the motel, his hands shook so hard he barely was able to fit the key into the lock and open the door, but then they were finally in the dark motel room, frozen to their bones.

Dean was tired, but at the same time terribly thrilled; his thoughts were racing through his head, now he was almot sobered up again by the long walk through the cold. He could feel Cas' eyes burning on him, and he was nervous, fidgeting under the intense stare. Dean cleared his throat and fixed his eyes on Cas, who was standing, swaying besides the sofa, his hand gripping the fake leather, searching for support.

"So … it got pretty late … and I am really tired, you know, the day was long, and…"

Dean said, rubbing his hands to get the warmth back.

"Go to sleep, Dean." Cas said, his voice slightly slurring, but steady.

"Yes, yes … I will … Do you – I mean, - you stay?"

Damn, why did he sound like a hopeful fool asking his crush out for prom?_ Keep it cool, Winchester!_

"If you want me to, Dean. But as out pointed out earlier, I don't think I am in any condition to fly now, so I would prefer to stay here for the night, if that is alright with you."

Dean huffed a nervous laugh, and Cas looked at him and cocked his head to one side, brows furrowing. _Damn_, he was just so adorable when he did that thing with his head. _Dammit_.

Dean already craved to touch again, he missed the warmth of Cas' skin and he leaned unintentionally towards Cas, taking a few small steps towards him before he was able to stop himself.

"Well, yes, I think I am going to bed now… Sammy's not here for the night, so if you don't mind you can take his bed…?"

Dean rubbed his neck and felt incredibly awkward but excited. _What the hell?_

Cas nodded shortly and broke his gaze from Dean's face as he walked over to the other motel bed and laid down, still completely dressed, on top of the covers. Dean's eyes burnt, he was really tired and just wanted to sleep, but he couldn't keep himself from chuckling quietly as he noticed that Cas was still shivering. Dean himself was still cold as ice and sighed as he walked over to his bed.

"Cas, to warm up you have to take off your clothes. At least the trench coat and your shoes. And you have to lay in bed, not on top of it." Dean laughed.

He sat down on his bed in front of Cas and watched, amused, how the still a little bit tipsy angel struggled first with his coat and then with his shoes, glancing triumphantly at Dean as he succeeded. Dean sighed. They should take Cas out more often. He liked relaxed Cas.

He started to kick his boots from his feet and murmured quietly "I guess it would be more comfortable if you'd get rid off the suit, belts are really nasty things to sleep with…".

He didn't dare look up as he imagined how Cas would look like under all those layers of cloth, turning to face his bed when he shuck out of his pants and socks, trying to hide the hot blush that was creeping up his neck and chest. When he turned around to look at Cas, now only wearing his shorts and t-shirt, Cas' had already crawled into bed, still shivering uncontrollably, the suit and trench coat abandoned in a pile on the floor. Dean smiled at the thought of Cas obeying him without any questions. He crawled into bed himself, tired to the bones and cold as an icicle, and the cool comforter didn't really help the matter. When he finally found a comfortable position he turned around to look at Cas and was met with blue eyes, watching every move he made. A shiver ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the coolness of the sheets.

"Ehm … yeah. Try to get some sleep. Or. Whatever you do while I sleep…"

"Yes, Dean." Cas answered in a low voice.

"Night, Cas"

"Good night, Dean. Sleep well."

Dean sighed and turned around to lay on his back, closing his eyes. Nope, not a good idea, the room was still spinning too much. He opened his heavy eyelids and stared at the ceiling. Dean felt Cas' stare on his face, and he tried really hard not to turn around and look right back in those magnetic blue eyes.

Dean let the evening pass his mind again. He had been keen on having as much skin contact as possible the whole evening. Yes. And why, exactly? He had no idea. Ugh, he was still freezing cold. Cas probably too. Why, actually? Why hasn't he mojoed himself warm again, already? Ah, right. He had told him to turn off his angel powers for the evening earlier. Silly angel.

Dean fidgeted under his comforter. His toes were so cold he couldn't really feel them anymore, and he was shivering really hard. His body simply didn't want to warm up. _Damn_. Why was Cas taking everything so literally? Was he cold, too?

He had been so deliciously warm this evening, his thigh against Dean's, Cas' hand in his own. He looked over to the other bed and found those incredibly blue eyes peering at him from under the comforter and through the strains of dark hair that had fallen into Cas' eyes. He liked Cas like that. Without the trench coat, without the suit, in a bed, with ruffled hair.

"Can't really sleep yet" Dean murmured and turned his back to Cas, squeezing his eyes shut. He had to stop looking at Cas like that, or else his imagination would go running riot. _Damn_. Cas was only wearing a really thin pair of boxers underneath those sheets … _Damn_. Dean suddenly heated up, but unfortunately only in his lower regions. He cursed under his breath and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter while trying to will his growing erection away.

Cas had stripped down to his boxers, exactly like Dean had told him to do. When it came to human mundane things, he trusted Dean completely. Actually, Cas trusted Dean in all things of matter. Dean had proved himself trustworthy, more times than Cas cared to count. So Cas had done what Dean had told him, and was, after a short fight with the buttons of his shirt and the zipper of his trousers, sliding under the cool sheets of the hotel bed, and he started to shiver. Yes, he was cold, and it was definitely not a pleasant feeling, but Dean had told him to do without his powers that night. He didn't really know why he had followed Dean's instruction, he had only wanted to please Dean. As he turned around to face Dean, he saw him shucking off his trousers and then crawling under the sheets. His legs were really beautiful, lean and strong, Cas thought, even though they were bowlegs, Cas was sure he had never seen such beautiful legs in his existence. Dean moved around under his comforter for a while. Cas could never get enough of watching this particular human being. He was full of wonder, how he moved, how his lean, strong muscled flexed and stretched, how it seemed like he had full control over every single part of his body, how all the muscles in his body were constantly tensed, ready to defend, ready to fight, ready to go, a vice of a hunter. And those eyes. And those cheek bones. And the neck, his throat, his collar bones. It was the perfect interplay in between bones, muscles and skin, that fascinated Castiel.

He watched Dean fidgeting under his sheets and thought about the course of the evening. This evening was different from the previous ones he had spent with the Winchester brothers. Dean had acted differently. Castiel liked the change. There was a tension between them, more than usual. Cas had enjoyed the physical closeness between them both in that bar, as well as holding the hunters hand, feeling his warmth. Dean had given him something special, he knew that. He had given him his trust, It was a different kind of trust, it was more than just trust. Cas did not know how to call it, but this kind of trust was filled with excitement, an increased heartbeat rate, the heat in their touches, the beginning of a promise. Cas liked it. He wanted more of it. He looked over to Dean and caught his eyes, examined the fine lines on his forehead, before Dean turned around.

Cas was still cold, very cold, his fingers and toes were freezing, and he wondered when this coldness would stop. He missed the warmth of Dean's fingers, he missed the rough skin on his own. Maybe Cas didn't know what it was, this new thing between Dean and him, but he knew, that Dean had opened up a little bit more to him that night. Cas had seen the fear of rejection in his eyes, the relief, when he entwined their fingers. Castiel concluded that Dean might not know what was going on with them too. He had heard – and understood - enough jokes from Dean to know, he would never do those things they had done that night with another man. Well, of course, Castiel was no man, he was a celestial being, but Jimmy Novak, his vessel, was clearly male. This confused him, but he had seen the same confusion in Dean's eyes, earlier that evening, and that appeased him.

Castiel heard Dean's breath, now constant and slow, and slid out of his bed. He took the two steps to Dean's bed, quietly, so not to wake him. He stood there in the darkness, shivering, and decided that the evening was over and he could switch back on his angel mojo; he was instantly comfortably warm again. Castiel watched Dean's chest rise and fall, his eyelids moving, following something in his dream; he was laying on his side, hunched around one edge of the bed. Cas watched Dean sleep, thinking about every move Dean had made, every expression that had slid over his face that evening, every look he had given Castiel. After short hesitation, Castiel made up his mind.

He sat down slowly on the bed, carefully not to wake Dean, and slid under the comforter. His heart was pounding unnaturally fast and loud as he laid hhis head on the pillow beside Dean. He felt Dean's warmth welcoming him and had to keep himself from reaching out and touching his skin. Dean mumbled something in his sleep and Castiel froze, but Dean just turned around to face Cas. Castiel let out the long breath he had been holding and relaxed, sure now, that Dean was still fast asleep, turning to his side, his face only inches apart from Dean's. His hand crept to Dean's, and slowly, very slowly, he entwined their fingers once again. Dean sighed in his sleep at the sudden warmth in his hand, and moved instinctively closer to the source of the heat, closer to Castiel. Cas watched him with big eyes, happy now he was holding Dean's hand again. He closed his eyes, Dean's freezing cold feet searching for his warm ones under the comforter; his legs wrapping around the angel's. Cas sucked in a deep breath, taking in Dean's scent of alcohol, sweat, shampoo and Dean. About an hour later, Dean's arm was wrapped around Cas' mid, his mouth was drooling on Cas' shoulder, and Castiel had to smile a real smile when Dean's fingers brushed lightly over his stomach, igniting a warmth in his belly.

Castiel was sure, that he had never been _this _happy and content in his whole, long existence.


End file.
